


Like A House on Fire

by Neverever



Category: Iron Man (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Noir
Genre: Action/Adventure, M/M, Meet-Cute, Party, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28397304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neverever/pseuds/Neverever
Summary: Bored and restless, Tony Stark goes to a party and meets Roger Stevens. Who turns out to be nothing like Tony expected.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 11
Kudos: 97
Collections: 2020 Captain America/Iron Man Holiday Exchange





	Like A House on Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sadisticsparkle (sadisticsparkle)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadisticsparkle/gifts).



> Written for Sadisticsparkle's prompt: "I'm so rich and you're so bored/Are you the trouble I've been looking for." I hope this fic is what you were hoping for!
> 
> Big thanks to sheron, who helped out at the last minute with beta work and did a fantastic job. Much appreciated!

For the first time since he turned seventeen, Tony was grounded for months in New York City. First, laid low by a bout of pneumonia, then by the messy state of the world. Now, he was left languishing during the grey spring of New York. The fireworks of warm July were too far in the future and the celebrations of the New Year remained too far in the past and. And all the news from Europe was miserable.

“Stop whining,” Pepper said around the pencil held in her teeth.

“I am not,” Tony replied indignantly from his huge leather couch that dominated one wall of the library. 

“You don’t need to say a thing -- I can practically read your mind.” She frowned at him as she turned another page of the manuscript on her lap. 

Tony turned onto his side on the large leather couch. Pepper was surrounded by galleys of the latest issue of _Marvels_. “I’m not that transparent.”

“For the past two days, you’ve been complaining about everything -- the lack of good Italian wine, where’s the next adventure, why pneumonia, why does the Daily Bugle stain your hands when you read it.” She took the pencil out of her mouth to point it at Tony. “It’s getting tiresome.”

“Doing nothing is boring. I miss fighting Nazis.”

“The doctor only cleared you from bedrest yesterday. Something will come up,” Pepper replied. 

Tony was vaguely annoyed by her lack of sympathy for his dire condition. “I should throw a dart at the map and see where it lands. Go there. You could use the story for the magazine.”

Pepper chuckled as she looked over at the large framed world map on the wall. “We’d have to mark off part of the world, since there is a war going on. Going on an adventure to find lost treasures would sell very well these days -- pure escapism.”

He huffed. “Fighting Nazis is the future, not exploring for mysterious artifacts.” 

“Did the doctor prescribe that?”

Tony thought better of his first instinct to toss a pillow at Pepper. “We’ll be in that war sooner or later.”

“Probably,” Pepper agreed. “If you want to feel useful, you could go through your mail.” She got up to retrieve a pile from the table.

Tony swung his legs to the floor and grudgingly took the proffered pile. A cream envelope addressed in elegant handwriting slid off the top of the pile and slipped into his hand. He opened the fine paper with a letter opener. “Hmmm, the Cotters are hosting a party tomorrow night. I’m late to RSVP but I’ve known them forever. They throw excellent parties. It would be a welcome distraction to boot. I should have a decent tux ready for me.”

“Sounds interesting,” Pepper said unenthusiastically. “Not that we’re doing society pages for the magazine. We haven’t sunk that low yet.”

Tony stood up. “This gives me ideas. I’ll be down in the workshop, working on the armor.”

~~~~~

Tony arrived at the party dressed to the nines, fashionably late and ready to be swept into any amount of shenanigans the evening offered. 

He had been at the Park Avenue apartment a few years before, when Jack and Kay Cotter had bought the place during a bankruptcy sale. Tony had almost been tempted himself with the spectacular bargain of a two-story apartment home complete with maid quarters and working fireplace. But he needed more space than that since he spent all his time in the workshop space and expansive library in his mansion, though he remained envious of the Cotter’s private elevator.

The noise from the party brought a smile to his face as he walked down the hallway. Not even eight o’clock and they could have a visit from the police. A maid murmured good evening to him as he handed over his overcoat in the foyer and headed inside. 

A stand-out in her own party with splashy rhinestone earring, Kay Cotter waded through her crowded living room to throw her arms around him. “I’m thrilled you came, darling,” she said. “I’d heard from a little bird you were still surprisingly in New York.” She handed him a drink from a passing waiter.

“It is home after all,” Tony replied. He looked over the large living-room, full of socialites, trendy smart people, and representatives from the moneyed crowd of the city. Kay couldn’t have asked for a more dramatic backdrop for her party, with windows overlooking Central Park and the city skyline. A few people were braving the cold of the terrace.

Kay linked her arm with his. “Jack will be thrilled, he said you would never come.”

“How could I turn down your personal invitation?” Tony replied.

There had been a time when he would have been a staple of the social scene and holding parties to rival the Cotters. He knew ― or knew of ― most of the party-goers from his other life as the owner of Stark industries and that time before he’d found adventuring and Nazi hunting to be his true calling in life.

Except he didn’t recognize the young tall blond lingering around the punch bowls. The only word for the man was gorgeous, outfitted as he was in a black tuxedo that hinted at the body underneath and with a face that could make angels cry. One would travel a long, long way before seeing another man like that.

“Who’s the long drink of water?”

“Oh, Roger Stevens. He’s from out West somewhere -- Phoenix? I don’t know. Dissolute heirs of wealthy industrialists don’t always come from Pittsburgh anymore, I’ve been told.”

“That’s who he is?” 

“He’s dripping in it from what I’ve been told. He came to New York last week -- heard he got kicked out of a college in Boston -- didn’t catch the name.”

“Huh.”

Kay leaned in. “I’d stay away from him. He’s got trouble all over him.”

“Could be the attraction,” Tony replied, as he sipped his gin and tonic.

“He’s gone through a whole Broadway show’s worth of actors and dancers. That’s what I heard from Miranda -- remember Miranda Pratt? -- she’s the one who suggested I invited him. Just to spice up the party.”

“Admirable resume.”

“There’s trouble that’s fun and there’s trouble that takes a lot of money to make go away. That Stevens boy -- I can tell just from the look of ‘im that he’s in the second category. I could hunt up a chorus girl or two for you. There’s one around here somewhere.”

Tony sipped his drink and contemplated Stevens, who was talking with a young woman who might have been a movie star. He was facing a competitive field for Steven’s attention this evening. 

“I’m going to tell Jack you’re here,” Kay said. “Don’t go wandering off anywhere.”

~~~~~

Tony earned himself a dirty look from the starlet when he introduced himself to Stevens. “Our hostess tells me you’re in town for a while,” he said. “Tony Stark.” He offered his hand and Stevens met his eyes, giving him a firm handshake, moving up Stevens up immediately in Tony’s estimation.

“Roger Stevens. Wait -- are you the owner of Marvels? The magazine?” the man asked with a sudden intense interest.

“Most people remember me as the owner of Stark Industries,” Tony replied.

“Not as interesting as your expedition to Atlantis.” Stevens had a wonderful smile and a gee-whiz wonder his voice that didn’t quite square with his reputation as the latest conqueror to carve a swath through the social scene of New York.

“Ah, Stark, nice to see you here,” Jack Cotter said on his right. Stevens and he turned towards their host. “Sorry to interrupt, Stevens. I have a little bit of business to settle with Stark here.” Jack cuffed Tony’s shoulder. 

“Come to my study -- I have that check for you.” Tony glanced back at Stevens at the punch bowls, hoping that he would find the man there again when he was free.

Jack led Tony through the noisy bustle of the apartment to the quieter back of the apartment where his study was located. Jack fished a key out of his pocket. “Love having people over, but can’t be too careful,” he said as he unlocked the door.

“What’s the check for?” Tony asked. Jack’s study was richly appointed with heavy oriental carpets, wood blinds and wainscotting, and bookshelves filled with leather bound books, a shocking contrast with the Art Deco furnishings of the living room. He guessed that Kay left the study to Jack and the interior designer. 

Jack chuckled. “You forgot? It was that bet over the baseball game --”

“Geez, Jack, that was over a year ago,” Tony waved him off. That World Series could have been a lifetime ago for all Tony remembered. 

Jack walked over to a bookshelf and hit a well-masked lever to open a hidden compartment. The panel of fake books slid open to reveal a decanter and glasses. “Here’s to a better summer,” Jack said while handing over a glass of whiskey to Tony. They clinked glasses. “Will you be in New York for long? Or off to another adventure?”

“Not until this war is over,” Tony replied. 

“It’s not our problem,” Jack said. He walked over to his desk where he pushed aside a couple of books and put his hand on a printed handout that Tony couldn’t read.

Tony wasn’t sure how to take that. He drank some more from the glass and put it down. “We should get back before Kay comes looking for you.”

“We should,” Jack agreed. He shuffled a book over the handout.

~~~~~

A half-hour after leaving Jack’s study, Tony still hadn’t found anyone more interesting than the Stevens gent. Tony had plenty of money and time to throw around tonight, and Stevens looked to be an excellent target. 

Fortunately, Stevens turned out to be a damsel in distress. Tony found him besieged on the terrace by a number of admirers who hadn’t been dissuaded by the seedy rumors. “Ah, Stevens, there you are. I’ve been looking for you all over -- Jack asked us to look at the wine supply. Since you’ve come from Italy.”

“Roger, you don’t have to go, do you?” a woman in a dress purred at Stevens. 

“Duty calls,” Stevens replied. 

“Can’t be a party without the wine,” Tony added.

Tony steered Stevens towards the kitchen.

“You were serious about the wine?” Stevens said. 

“I was serious about the wine cellar. They have one here. Down this staircase and to the side,” Tony said. “One of the servers told me about it.”

“Should I call for help since you seem determined to kidnap me?”

Smiling, Tony opened the door to the wine cellar. “It’s more wine storage than a true cellar.” He looked up and down the nearly full racks. “They haven’t even begun to start serving the truly excellent stuff.”

Stevens stayed back, leaning his large frame against the wall, hands in pockets. “It’s nearly 10:30 pm.” He was dangerously attractive in the low light, his eyes bright and his finger tugging at the bowtie at his neck.

Tony quickly decided on the bottle on his right. He lifted it up and all he could tell about the vintage that it was from somewhere in France because he couldn’t see all of the label in the low light. “What, you have to get up early for school?”

“Maybe that’s why I was kicked out.”

Tony grinned back, happy that Stevens was open to his flirting. “No one as pretty as you needs to waste time at college.”

Stevens’ lips curved into a smile. And god did Tony want to kiss that smile right off his handsome face. “I’ve got to plan to make a living once I’m no longer pretty.”

“Planning on the mining money running out?”

“Mining money?” Stevens replied, momentarily confused. Then something clicked. “Oh, dad’s money. It’s nice inheritance but it’s not going to keep me in the manner to which I’ve become accustomed.”

Tony leaned towards Stevens, intrigued by the flash of intelligence in his eyes. “What do you have to recommend you?”

“My face and I play a mean game of pool.”

“I bet you’re a riot at parties.” They walked out of the cellar and back towards the kitchen. 

“You kidnapped me before I could show off my party talents.”

“Let’s find some glasses and talk about your future plans and whether of not I fit into them.” Tony had seen glasses in the butler’s pantry off the kitchen where the hired staff were working for the party. 

“You might be assuming a bit there, Mr. Stark. All I know about you is that you’re fabulously wealthy, a famous adventurer and fill out a tuxedo.”

“You left out my other fantastic talents,” Tony added. He glanced down at Stevens’ lips and then back at his sky-blue eyes.

“I’ve read your magazine, but I haven’t had a chance to try out your other talents, fantastic or not.” 

“Maybe you’re luck will change tonight,” Tony said. 

They turned a corner when they reached the kitchen and ended up near the foyer. He tapped Steve’s shoulder ready to go back towards the kitchen, when something caught him off guard. He could swear he saw one of Baron Strucker’s henchmen sneak into the foyer through the front door. He’d seen the man before, in that final confrontation with Zemo.

Then, he saw that Stevens was also watching the same man with an alert look, like he recognized him too.

Turning to Tony, Stevens touched his arm, “You said something about getting a corkscrew.”

“Yeah.”

Tony followed Stevens to the butler’s pantry. He made a show of looking for a corkscrew all the while trying to catch sight of the henchman who had disappeared into the party crowd. He didn’t have a good feeling about this at all.

Stevens stepped behind him. Usually, Tony would have been excited by the attention but the man was blocking his view. “Hey --”

“Look,” Stevens said. He jerked his head towards the door that lead to Jack’s study. The study was just to the side of the butler’s pantry, so Tony could see out of the corner of his eye the henchman waiting by the door to the study.

The henchman kept flinching at the kitchen and waitstaff milling about with food and drink trays for the party. Stevens made a show of wiping the glasses on the counter top and Tony joined in, hiding behind Stevens. Tony used Stevens’ body like a shield as he peeped around the corner of the pantry door frame as he watched Jack walked up to the waiting henchman.

Tony used Stevens’ body to cover his spying. Strucker’s henchman handed Jack a box. Jack unlocked his study, stepped in and came out immediately with a big, thick envelope. The henchman shoved the envelope into his jacket. They shook hands and separated.

“That can’t be good,” Tony said under his breath.

“No, it can’t,” Stevens replied.

“It’s been lovely meeting you, but --”

“Mystery Man or Jack’s study, which one?” Stevens asked briskly. “Wait -- where is the guy?”

Tony gave Stevens a side-eye glance, re-evaluating the man in light of his recents actions, which were not in line at all with his story of being a heir to a mining fortune. “He just went into the kitchen and is getting food.”

“We have a few minutes to look in the office then.”

“I’m thinking you’re not a mining heir, Mr. Stevens,” Tony said as Steve glanced up and down the hallway before stepping towards the door.

“I could be, and this is what I do for fun,” Stevens replied. He jiggled the door handle. “Can you call on your mysterious multiple talents to open this door?”

“If you have a hair pin -- oh, thanks -- why do you have a hair pin?” 

“Always be prepared,” Stevens replied deadpan. He pulled out a pair of thin fabric gloves and put them on.

Tony bent the hair pin Stevens gave him and picked the lock. The noise and bustle of the staff and party goers concealed their activities. The simple lock gave way quickly and Tony pushed them both into Jack’s study.

“You should know that my mysterious talents did not refer to lock-picking,” Tony said while Steve locked the door behind them.

“Where’s the box?” Steve turned on the lights. All business.

Tony looked more carefully at the bookshelves, remembering the hidden drinks compartment. He knocked on a few books. “There are hidden doors.”

“Right.” Stevens also methodically checked the books. 

Tony went over to the desk. Covering his hand with a handkerchief, he lifted a book to uncover the hand-out Jack had almost shown him. His heart fell when he saw that it was flyer for an America First Rally in April. 

“Is this the box?” Stevens asked as he pulled out a wooden box out of a hidden compartment in the bookshelves.

“Yes.”

“We need to go. Our guy is probably finishing up his dinner.”

Being both intrigued and aroused in the sudden changes in Stevens, Tony asked, “What’s going on here?”

“We need to go. Are you in or out?”

“This wasn’t the sort of trouble I was looking for tonight,” Tony replied.

Stevens smiled roguishly at Tony. “If you’re in, we have to move. Now.”

After shutting doors and covering up the desk, they snuck out of the study. “He’s finishing up.”

“Okay -- there’s a back staircase to outside somewhere.”

“How do you know that?” Tony asked. 

Stevens said nothing, but grabbed Tony’s hand as he led the way to back down to the wine cellar and storage rooms. As Stevens said, there was a back staircase and even better, a freight elevator.

Once on the elevator, Tony dropped Steves’ hand and turned to face him. “I’m guessing Stevens isn’t your real name.”

Steve loosened up his bowtie and took off his jacket. “Steve Rogers.”

“Working for --”

“Uhhh, US Government. That’s the best I can tell you.”

Tony sighed heavily. Government agents could be the worst in situations like this. “You know what’s going on here? Who gave you the worst spy name ever?” He wished he had more time to appreciate Steve standing there in his shirtsleeves and vest.

“I’m not a spy.”

“Sure act like it.”

Steve shot Tony a careful look. “I’m more like special operations.”

“Special operations spy? Isn’t that a bit redundant?”

“I’m on the fighting side, more than the spying side of things. They needed a specific person to infiltrate the party and I fit the bill.”

“Why is the government surveilling the Cotters? They aren’t much different from a lot of standard-issue wealthy New Yorkers.”

“The Cotters are active members of the America First Committee.”

A note of betrayal seeped into Tony’s voice. “It’s not like they belonged to the German American Bund. The Committee --”

“It’s worse. Strucker is expanding his Nazi recruiting efforts and America First members are ripe for the picking. That what was in the box -- Nazi propaganda.”

Tony was thunderstruck. “Wait -- are you saying that Baron Strucker is behind this? Because Strucker is dead -- I had a run in with him last year.”

“He got better since then.”

Tony put his hand on Steve’s amazing bicep. “If Strucker is involved, then count me in. I want to put that bastard down for good.” He hadn’t forgotten one little bit his fight with Strucker or the betrayal of Howard Stark turned Zemo or the evils that Strucker planned to unleashed on the world. The man should have stayed dead.

The creaking elevator came to thudding stop. “Ground floor,” Steve said. “Look, we need to follow Strucker’s guy to wherever he came from -- that money Cotter gave him is going to fund something and someone.”

Steve pushed open the freight dock doors and headed into the loading dock area. 

Tony tore off his bowtie and jacket and began to roll up his sleeves. He caught Steve’s appreciative look. “My adventures are always much better with attractive companions,” he said with a wink.

“Huh, I was just thinking that an attractive companions adds something to my mission,” Steve replied with sparkle in his eye and a smile on his lips. “See him anywhere?”

“If we do find him, how are we going to follow him?” 

“With this,” Steve said. He headed straight to a pile of crates to the side of the dock. He ripped a canvas tarp off a motorcycle. 

Tony whistled low. It was the fanciest motorcycle he had ever seen. Steve straddled the seat and then kick-started the bike. The bike roared to life. “He should be down here any minute. Come on.”

He got on the bike behind Steve, who inched the bike through the alley towards Park Avenue, expecting to see the henchman any minute.

“No back-up?” Tony asked into Steve’s ear.

“It’s all us.”

“Just the way I like it.”

Strucker’s henchman walked out of the apartment building, just like he belonged there. Tony gritted his teeth as Steve patiently waited for the man to flag a taxi. 

“Is that just a taxi?” he asked.

Steve shook his head. “Just a taxi.”

Then he eased the bike into the late evening traffic, building up to speeding down light-soaked streets after the car. Tony usually did not ride behind, but leaning against Steve’s strong back and the wind rushing through his hair gave him thrills he’d rarely felt before.

“We’re going to Brooklyn,” Tony shouted into Steve’s ear. 

“Maybe the Red Hook warehouses,” Steve shouted back.

Steve wove in and out around the cars on the road, keeping steady with the taxi, which was picking up speed. The clean streets of Mid-town gave way to the grittier and poorly lit streets of Brooklyn. Then they followed the taxi into a collection of warehouses.

The taxi stopped in front of one. Steve drove the motorcycle to the side of the warehouse so that they could see the taxi but not be seen by the occupants. The henchman walked out of the taxi and into the warehouse. The taxi furiously honked after him.

“Did he just stiff that taxi driver?” Tony asked.

“That’s terrible,” Steve said. He revved up the motorcycle engine.

“Okay -- let me off and I can sneak through the back -- see if he’s meeting with Strucker.”

“We’re doing this the direct way,” Steve said. He drove the motorcycle to the front of the warehouse.

“The direct way?”

Steven backed up the bike. “Yeah. Duck.”

He kicked the bike into a highest gear and speed right towards the door. 

“Steve!”

“Duck!” Steve shouted back at him. 

“Are you crazy?” Tony shouted, even as he thrilled to get into the action. Steve was turning out to be exactly the sort of person that Tony loved to work with.

They crashed right through the warehouse doors, sending wood and splinters everywhere.

They surprised the henchman and five companions in strange uniforms. They had guns and ammo on the table in the front of them and a map of the five burroughs. They were clearly up to no good. Steve landed the motorcycle right in the middle of their meeting. One man was knocked back. Steve swerved on the motorcycle to hit another man who tried to pull a gun on them. Tony spilled off the bike. But he was quick to get to his feet. 

The henchman took a swing at Tony and the fist fight was quick and brutal. Tony threw hard punches and laid out the henchman. Steve made short work of the other two agents. Tony stood breathing harshly while Steve tied them all up. 

“I’m calling this in,” Steve said.

“Sure. Let’s do that.”

An hour later, tight-lipped government men in khaki uniforms showed up and took over the crime scene. They said nothing to Tony and exchanged a few words with Steve that Tony couldn’t quite hear. One saluted Steve and it was clear that Steve had been dismissed.

Steve brushed back hair out of his eyes. “We’re free to go.”

“Any news?”

Steve looked back at the men processing the scene. “It’s a lead. They’ll have to interrogate the agents. But I think we might have stopped something bad.”

Tony rolled his shoulder, feeling the sore spots that could turn into bruises in the morning. But he hadn’t been this exhilarated in months. A fight with Nazis, just what the doctor ordered and he wasn’t quite ready for the night to end. “Hmm, should we go back?”

“Not a good idea -- the police are arresting the Cotters right now.”

“That could put a real damper on the party.”

Steve laughed. “It could.”

“How about this -- we get a late night dinner at a diner. I know a place. We have a taxi.”

Steve looked torn. “I have an early train I have to catch. Back to base.”

After all the excitement, Tony wasn't about to let him disappear out of his life. He tugged on his sleeve until Steve was close. Then he kissed Steve long and slow, savoring the press and slide of their lips. “I promise -- you’ll get your train.”

~~~~~

Steve stirred and woke up an hour before dawn. He kissed Tony’s nose, chin and lips. “I have to go.”

Stretching in bed, Tony squeezed Steve’s hand. “I wish you could stay. I could use a guy like you with the magazine.”

He brushed hair out of Tony’s eyes. “There was a time when I wanted that more than anything.” He rolled out of the bed and snatched up his clothes off the floor.

Tony lay back in bed, remembering the moment he saw Steve at the party. He’d looked even better without clothes when they got to the hotel. While Steve cleaned up in the bathroom, Tony got up and walked over to the desk in the room. He wrote out his address for Steve.

“Take this,” he said, once back came back to the room, already dressed. 

Steve took the address, tucked it into his wallet. He struggled for words until he pulled Tony into a crushing hug. “I wish I didn’t have to go. But we’ll see each other again, Tony. I’m certain of it.”

Tony sighed. “This isn’t how I saw my evening ending.”

“It is the way you saw it ending -- the only change was that we had a detour to fight Nazis,” Steve pointedly said with a smile on his face.

He laughed. “I hope to see you soon.”

“Sooner than you think,” Steve said mysteriously, then he was gone.

~~~~~

Out of the blue, a General Phillips invited Tony to come down to Camp Lehigh to show off his Iron Man armor. Now that it was looking more and more that war was heading their way, Tony was inclined to help the government if he could. Tony boxed up a prototype and took an uneventful train ride down to Virginia.

“Not much traffic,” Tony said to the conductor as they pulled up to a deserted platform in the middle of nowhere. The station was essentially the platform and a glorified shed with a ticket window.

“Busier these days,” the man replied as three soldiers ran up to the door.

When Tony stepped off the train, he saw the army trucks and soldiers off-loading freight, including his crates. 

“Mr. Stark?” someone behind him asked. “The General sent me to pick you up.”

Tony whipped around to see the soldier. Tall, blond, blue-eyed with a slight smile on his lips. All dressed up in army khaki, complete with cap and black boots. “Steve?”

“Yes, sir, Private Steve Rogers. I’m General Phillips’s driver,” Steve replied, like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

“Is that all that you do?” Tony replied as he followed Steve to the jeep.

Steve put his suitcase in the back and opened the passenger door for Tony. “I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“Sure.” 

Steve jumped into the driver’s seat, turned the key to make the engine roar to life. Another solider hustled over to them, studying the crates “We’ve loaded up the trucks with the freight. Love to know what we’ve got here.”

“Don’t know. Phillips doesn’t tell me anything,” Steve replied.

“Shoot. See ya back in camp, Rogers.” The man moved on.

“Doesn’t tell you anything?” Tony said when he was out of hearing range.

“Sure doesn’t,” Steve replied. He turned to look behind them as he shifted into reverse. Tony caught sight of the curl of his lips and that sparkle in his eyes.

Hmm, the trip to Lehigh just got far more interesting. “How far is it to camp?”

“Depends on how fast I drive,” Steve replied. “Jeep goes about 85 if I floor it.”

“You sure are trouble.”

Steve chuckled, “Can’t see anything happening on a two-mile ride.”

“Ha, I know you. Nazis are going to jump right out of those trees ahead of us.”

“I cleaned ‘em out yesterday, not going to be a problem today.”

“Nazis, in Virginia, what is the world coming to?” Tony laughed. Steve had been the best thing to happen to him in years.


End file.
